


X marks The Spot, And Other Rookie Mistakes (Kidnapping Princesses Is Never Wise)

by JZXR7



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Adventure, And Lena might or might not deliberatly get kidnapped, F/F, Fed Up First Mate Alex, Fluff, Humor, Kara and Co want to rob the Luthors blind but Gay Shenanigans occur, Like high seas robin hood, Medieval AU, Oh yeah and Kara is the most moral pirate queen ever, Pirate AU, Princess Lena, Romance, Royalty AU, The Luthors are horrible parents, They're All Gay, Try and stop me!, pirate kara
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-03-20 10:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18990715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JZXR7/pseuds/JZXR7
Summary: In which Kara had planned on robbing the infamous Queen Lillian blind, but the plan hits a snag when she lays eyes on her daughter. Her very beautiful, very sad looking daughter.Alex can call her soft all she likes, but someone has to make this girl smile. Why should it not be Kara? Most likely because she's technically a wanted criminal, if for good reasons.Is it possible to clear out a royal treasury and kidnap one of the heirs to the throne with zero consequences? No. Absolutely not. But she's doing it anyway.





	1. Worth More Than Gold

Once upon a time, there was a princess more radiant than the sun and stars. Her face would inspire heroes to slay dragons in her honor and poets to spend their years struggling to describe the luster of her raven hair or the piercing blue-green majesty of her eyes. Orphans and widows whispered of her kindness, a coin pressed into an open palm or a smile from the back of a carriage. Cynical old men told their sons of her wealth. 

No one, Kara thought, had ever bothered to speak of the sadness in those magnetic eyes, or the way her angelic smile seemed frozen on her face, brittle and sharp as glass. Despite the vibrancy and life in the air, the woman seemed encased in ice, a prisoner on the way to execution as the crowd clapped and shouted screamed their adoration. The entire royal party was cold and sterile as they passed through, eyes fixed at the approaching towers of their palace, so far above the teeming crowds in their carriages they may as well have been in space. It made Princess Lena's small smiles at the child rushing to toss flowers at her feet or the man shouting her name from a rooftop all the more intoxicating to the people around her, one lone beam of winter sunlight among the dark glowers of the prince and his mother.

It was so very clear she was beautiful and charitable and kind, and hundreds of other adjectives besides. Her intellect was ruminated over by the greatest scholars in the land after sharing but a single conversation with her. She captured every eye and every heart, including Kara's own after but moments in her presence, and it was all she could do not to weep that this perfect being could be strangled by such company.

At that moment, Kara thought she'd happily go to her death to see the princess laugh. The thought hammered through her head, louder than church bells or the rhythmic plod of the soldier's boots. The triumphant parade music fell away as her blood pounded in her ears. Lena ( _The princess, her mind whispered_ ) held her head high and kept the wooden smile on her face as she drew closer and closer. Without the paralytic of distance, the urge to do something,  _anything_ to make her happy grew intoxicating. Her skin seemed to glow with moonlight under the noon sun, lips red and curled up as if to tell passerby "Come closer. I want to speak to you." Kara couldn't tear her eyes away if she tried. The roar of the crowd and drums was thrumming in her chest like the fires in a blacksmith's forge, whispering "Closer. Take a step closer." Her feet seemed to move of their own accord, faster than was safe in public as she darted between faceless figures. She could see nothing and no one but Lena.

She reached the curb and froze. Lena's carriage loomed closer and closer, far nearer to the ground than all the others as if the Queen and King were begging someone to sweep her away. Kara didn't say a word. She was positive she'd done nothing to draw the princess's attention, and yet. Eyes the color of the forest and sky met hers, curious and guarded in equal measure. Kara gave her sunniest grin, waving delightedly. Her face was flushing, she was certain, and she no doubt looked like a fool, but the princess was staring at her as if to study Kara's particular brand of madness, and it was impossible to feel anything but giddy. Lena didn't laugh. Her courteous mask didn't suffer a single crack, and yet her eyes lingered on Kara's, unblinking as she passed. 

Later, Kara would try to describe the feeling to Alex as every single star deciding to burst inside the earth's atmosphere at once. It was inevitable and dangerous and far too brief, yet it threw the entire world off its axis. Later, she would lie in bed as the moon climbed higher and higher in the sky smiling to herself, Lena's name ringing in her ears. 

Now, she watched her whisked away, still remote and tragic and painfully precious. And Kara smiled, waving an unseen goodbye. 

The rest of the parade had nothing to hold her attention. The lines upon lines of soldiers in their dress uniforms with their swords clanking at their sides did nothing but hurt her ears. The collected lords and ladies of the court preening like peacocks in their most resplendent outfits, through no fault of their own, were incapable of meeting the standard set by the princess so early on. Their gaudy ornamentation and practiced disgust at the throngs of peasants present seemed a cheap imitation of Lena's regal bearing, her effortless grace, the way she held her head or eyed the mob with a practiced air of calculation. In Kara's experienced eyes, she appeared the greatest treasure Metropolis could ever hope to offer, and yet anyone with a horse could have run away with her into the crowd with half the inclination to do so. 

Maybe someone would. Kara met the eyes of Winn and James as she searched the crowd, Alex's lithe form hovering in a doorway closer to the palace. As enjoyable as it was, she hadn't come here to ogle the princess or indulge in flights of fancy. 

She and her crew were here for one thing, and one thing only. 

The contents of the royal treasury. Regardless of the beauty of their owner.

 

 


	2. Everyone Loves A Bad Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena was not an imbecile. She knew a criminal when she saw one.

Princess Lena Luthor, second in line for the throne of Metropolis, distinguished inventor and unofficial head of finances unbeknownst to the queen was not an imbecile. Nor was she blind. The woman she'd seen, who had so blatantly locked eyes with her during the parade that morning, was on half the wanted posters in Metropolis. Her crew was on the other half.

Everyone knew about Captain Kara Danvers. She was the terror of every slaver or merchant ship on the sea, an unbeatable swordswoman and brilliant tactician. There were rumors that she wasn't human, that she was born of the sea itself, even that she took such a heavy toll on Metropolis because she was an old flame of Lex's. All false, she was certain, but a woman cloaked in legend and myth was difficult to see as a girl Lena's own age.

She didn't look nearly as fearsome in person as in whispered recounts from terrified merchants or admirals. There was no hardness in her eyes or cruelty in the lines of her face. Lena could not count a single scar on her tan skin, and her smile...Well, that had been quite surprising. She had, perhaps erroneously, assumed that no pirate queen could look quite so soft. She smiled slightly at her mistake, looking about before deciding the queen was unlikely to ask her what was quite so amusing. She'd not believe it if Lena told her.

Captain Danvers had never set foot on land near Metropolis. Her older cousin came once and had made a fool of Lex more times than Lena could count, starting a grudge that would span years. The embarrassment made the prince all the more determined to see either or both of the intrepid captains hang, and damn the consequences.

If Lena were smart, if she had an ounce of familial loyalty or respect for her betters, she'd tap Lex on the shoulder right now and tell him what she'd seen. If she wanted any hope of staying in Metropolis rather than being married off to the next "eligible" bachelor to arrive from the kingdom of Gotham she'd need him in her corner against the queen. 

The thought of that lovely blonde hair framing a noose made her stomach clench and drop. Lena scoffed. Was this what she'd been reduced to? A girl so lonely and pathetic, it caused her pain to think of a stranger hanging? It was pathetic, really. She took the hand of Lex's manservant and stepped out of her carriage, the support truly unnecessary due to how close it was to the ground. Lillian was getting less and less subtle tempting the people to get rid of Lena for her. At this rate, she'd be walking in the next outing. 

Unless she bought favor by reporting the pirate captain in attendance. With her bright blue eyes and loose waves of hair and infuriating smile. If she hadn't smiled at her,  if she hadn't almost stepped into the crowd to wave at her, guileless and looking for all the world like she  _liked_ Lena, then her mind would have already been made up. 

It had been ages since someone had smiled at her without a motive. She shuffled along with the rest of the royal party as grooms descended to care for their horses, searching in vain for one solitary agendaless moment in the last year. Her memory supplied her with hundreds of condescending smirks from well-bred boys seeking her favor, slimy grins from knights who thought she couldn't see them. One or two icy, false smirks from Lillian at public functions that never reached her eyes, reminding Lena of her removal from the other royals. 

One beautiful girl in a crowd waving to her, reaching out as if to take her hand and beaming. The lump in her throat that always formed when Lillian invaded her thoughts gently subsided. 

Maybe she could keep this one moment for herself. One moment among thousands, one face in a crowd. Who could say what she'd seen? It was all too possible she'd simply wanted to find a justification for her existence badly enough to hallucinate. 

She wouldn't tell Lex about Captain Danvers. She would remember the woman fondly, sun in her eyes and hair, laughing in a crowd. She could banish all thought of prison cells and trials, executioners and Lex's rages. She closed her eyes, allowing the captain's features to fade from her mind's eye. Just this once, she'd stay silent. There was no way for her to be certain. If she was wrong it would start a witch hunt for a nonexistent fugitive. Someone could be hurt. 

The odds she'd ever see the woman again were slimmer than those of her ascending to the throne, or of Lillian ever accepting her as a daughter. For once, that thought brought a sense of lightness to Lena's chest. If she never again saw hide or hair of the woman who  _might,_ in the right light, have vaguely resembled an infamous criminal for a few fleeting seconds, then she could hardly be obligated to mention her. Ever. She straightened, Lillian's never-ending lessons on posture pounding in her head, and marched out of the warm sun in the stable into the castle.

The air was damp on her skin, the smell of old mortar and stone dust thick in her nose as if she were in a cell herself and not a castle. She kept walking, falling into step several meters away from the queen or her son, surrounded by valets and maids and feeling not a bit out of place. Anyone who saw her might have stopped for a moment and wondered if they'd truly seen a princess, or only fooled themselves. In the dim torchlight and fleeting glimpses of afternoon sun through the minuscule windows, she could have been anyone.

A tight knot of guilt and fear curled in her stomach, tightening with every footfall. Dim torches were not the bright light of noon, and Captain Danvers was not an afterthought to overlook in hallways. Still. It was too late now to breathe a word of her encounter. The woman in the street would have disappeared by now with no one but Lena the wiser, taking her kind eyes and wide grin with her. 


	3. Hiding In Plain Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparing for the heist of a lifetime tends to include some distractions.

The face on the wanted poster glowered intimidatingly down at passerby. The drawing was all hard lines and slashes as if the artist wanted to convey the sheer rage the woman being depicted contained. Her eyes were slits, frozen in eternal suspicion. The set of her jaw was tense, jutting out defiantly while her lips twisted downward in a sneer. Her hair was drawn up in a severe bun under a tri-cornered hat, not a strand escaping.

**"Wanted: Kara Danvers, dead or alive. For theft and treason."**

Alex looked at the poster. She looked at her sister. She looked at another, identical poster a few feet away with the same message, followed by another and another and yet another the entire length of the street. It appeared they were less than welcome in Metropolis.

They were also incredibly lucky the person describing Kara had clearly been terrified by her. Alex would admit that in the heat of battle, sword in hand, Kara could cut an intimidating figure, but the caricature of the cruel, murderous sea captain (and she did indeed notice they hadn't included Kara's rightful title) that the hapless artist had produced was just plain slander. The woman walking beside her had footsteps lighter than air as she practically bounced to her destination, shoulders slouched to avoid towering over her crewmates. She beamed carelessly at every beggar and crone she passed, hands tapping the rhythm of a nonexistent song on her legs. Her hair flowed over her shoulders in loose curls, bobbing with every movement. Staring at Kara and her poster side by side, even Alex was hard pressed to believe they were of the same woman.

That was good. This entire plan would go to shit if somebody started screaming about sighting the second most notorious pirate on the high seas in Metropolis. There was too much riding on this for them to be given away by a poster. She could see the tightness of Kara's shoulders as she met the eyes of every shoeless child or sick old man crouched on a stoop. She could feel the knot in her stomach thinking of her parents back home, of their reports of famine and starving farmers. The money stolen from the Luthor treasury could do far more good in the hands of the poor than it ever could funding yet another Luthor war.

"Hey, Alex! They got my chin right this time!"

A jubilant exclamation shattered her train of thought. She shook her head in exasperation. Only Kara would be more concerned with the artistic merits of her wanted poster than with the fact that it existed. 

"I see that. How does mine look?" 

"Cute. I bet all the girls want to get swept off their feet by you." Alex flushed and snuck a glance at the widely inaccurate drawing before snickering loudly. Clearly, the person describing her had remembered she was a woman with short hair, and the artist had used their imagination from there. A sullen, angular face stared back at her, eyebrows furrowed in a permanent frown and dominating "her" face. The hair was cropped close to the skull, ears and cheekbones jutting out at improbable angles.

"I love it." She wasn't lying. She adored the liberties taken with her appearance. No one was going to recognize any of them at this rate. As long as Kara remained happy and smiling, and the rest of the posters not dedicated to their famous captain were as poorly researched as Alex's own, they were golden.

And it looked like Kara wasn't planning on dropping her sunny countenance any time soon. She usually reminded Alex of a caged lion in the hours before a robbery, rubbing a furrow in the floor with her eternal pacing, brow crinkled until she was finally able to  _do_ something, a sentiment Alex shared and respected. This time, Alex must have been holding both her own anticipation and Kara's. The woman in question was almost skipping, which would have made sense if they were on shore leave in a friendly harbor, but they were certainly not. While she was thrilled Kara was loosening up a bit (and she had taken on so much weight and responsibility in her twenty-four years) the timing was a bit concerning.

"Hey. Are you alright?" Alex dropped a firm hand onto Kara's elbow, keeping them side by side as they traversed the busy road. Kara might have been their captain with her natural charisma and knack for adopting strays, but it was Alex in charge of making sure things didn't collapse, and that included her little sister.

"I'm great!" The massive grin on Kara's face was almost enough to convince Alex. Kara had all the acting skills of a golden retriever. If she wasn't sputtering and flushing, she likely was as fine as she said. But something about her behavior still seemed off.

"Your forehead hasn't crinkled for the entire day, you're humming old love songs, and the grinning is starting to scare me. I love you, and if you're happy I'm happy, but something is going on. And today, of all days, nothing can be going on.  _Nothing._ Because if you get caught..." She didn't need to continue. Everyone ashore knew the stakes of attempting to rob the Luthors, or even daring to visit their capital. If they were caught, they would be executed by dawn. Even so, she'd had too many volunteers to take everyone with them, and so Winn and James had been left in charge of the ship and their getaway with a mob of irritated sailors. She almost felt bad for the poor kids.

"I know! And I'm fine. Really. Just-I didn't know they had a daughter. The Luthors, I mean. Before the king died. She seems nice."

"You are, of course, aware that you have never spoken to the princess, right?"

Kara waved a hand flippantly as if Alex's very legitimate question was a pesky fly she'd like to shoo away. "She still does!"

"As long as you remember we're here to rob them. It doesn't matter _how_ pretty she is."

Alex smirked as Kara squawked loudly in indignation, smacking her shoulder as she insisted that  _yes,_ Lena was pretty, but  _no,_ she wasn't distracted, and  _how dare Alex suggest she was distracted?_ She noted the light blush coloring Kara's cheeks and the way her eyes glowed with passion as she extolled the Luthor girl's clear virtues, her rumored kindness and intellect, and how Kara didn't need to speak with her to know she might as well be a saint. 

Well, at least Alex had her answer as to why her sister was acting so strangely. And she would be bringing it up every time Kara teased her about her own love life (or lack thereof) until the end of time. So there. 

"No, of course, you're not distracted by the princess. Not at  _all._ " Kara glared down at her, and Alex felt a bit like she'd kicked a puppy. It was time to backtrack. "Listen. She might be nice. Very nice, and smart, and everything you say." Kara nodded emphatically, prepared to launch into another verbal tribute to Lena Luthor. "But her family is horrible. You've seen the damage they've caused. They're the reason we're  _here_ instead of home." Midvale had been hit hard by the last skirmish with the Southern provinces. The army had charged through demanding food and new soldiers and returned demanding more food, hauling dead bodies. It was a story that any town or village in Metropolis could and did tell, to anyone who would listen. Unfortunately, while Kara had her ears and heart wide open to help with any misfortune, the queen and her presumptive heir did not. Which just meant the crew of the S.S. Alura (Kara had insisted on the name, refusing to explain its significance) would have to fix as much of the mess as possible themselves.

Their purpose in docking at Metropolis was twofold. One, restock their constantly evaporating funds. Rebuilding war after messy war was expensive enough for a monarch, never mind two pirate ships with mouths of their own to feed. The second purpose was the one reason any of them were setting foot on dry land. With no money to speak of, Lillian would be hard pressed to hire waitstaff, much less invade anything other more exotic than her gardens. It as a risky plan, but one they'd all agreed to. She just hoped that Kara's newfound interest in the youngest (and hopefully least enamored with imperialism) Luthor didn't get in the way of months of work and planning.

She watched as Kara paid a young woman for a bouquet of flowers, handing each one to a group of little girls playing by a gurgling fountain. Their little hands clamored for the brightest specimens, chattering delightedly as they began the task of weaving them into each other's hair. Kara crouched down to smooth out new braids and slip coins into frayed purses, sending Alex a resplendent grin as her new friends insisted they braid her errant curls before she could leave. Alex grinned back, waving towards Kara's flock of adoring followers as they swarmed her. 

When Kara left, it was with hugs and a smile brighter than the sun. There was no need to worry about a pretty face diminishing Kara's desire to do this, to help repair what the Luthors had broken. And that was a good thing because the deadline for their daring (reckless. Stupid. Minimalist and risky) plan was rapidly approaching.

Alex felt her lips curl in a smirk, body humming in anticipation of adrenaline. She couldn't wait.

 


	4. Eyes in the Crowd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena isn't searching for Captain Danvers. Really, she isn't.

The air in the council chamber bordered on stifling. Hundreds of people stood impatiently in a line that stretched out of the throne room and into the hall. Their shifting and murmured conversations swept over the dozens of courtiers and minor nobles each vying for their Queen's favor. They clustered around her throne, like flies on a bloated corpse. The buzzing and stench were almost as obnoxious.

A cowering young man knelt before the throne, neck craned in an attempt to meet the Prince's eyes. The height of the throne ensured he would only see the beginnings of Lex's knees. In private moments, Lena wondered if the monstrosity Lillian had commissioned after her husband's death was as uncomfortable as it looked. It certainly was imposing, a creation of pitch black spires of twisted onyx creeping skyward like stalagmites, just happening to twist into something vaguely chair-shaped on their journey. Its current occupant was equally daunting, steely eyes surveying the crowd with a practiced disdain Lena had spent hours practicing in the mirror. The green of Luthor heraldry was well represented in his tunic and the emeralds of his crown. The color drained him somewhat, aging his handsome features and adding to his already considerable gravity as if his chosen attire carried the weight of his familial responsibilities.

They were admittedly considerable. Lillian wasn't one who enjoyed the more publically accessible aspects of monarchy, often leaving hearing the complaints of "the rabble" to her son in preparation for his ascent to the throne. Lena herself had never received that honor, not even when illness had struck the castle leaving both the Queen and Lex bedridden for days. Lena had watched from the shadows of a wall then as well, indistinguishable from the masses of scheming, flattering cockroaches who swarmed Lillian each day while Sir Morgan Edge was appointed Lillian's judge in the interim. 

"Throw him in the stockade."

The words shook her from her reverie. Lena froze, blinking rapidly as the man thrashed and shouted in the arms of the guards. He couldn't have been kneeling before Lex for longer than a minute. How on earth could Lex decide to have him punished in that time? He wasn't even a criminal case, just a citizen seeking reparations for property seized by the military. Lena leaned back against the seeping cold of the castle walls, closing her eyes and forcing a slow breath of air into her lungs. Hot tears of frustration threatened to seep between her eyelids. Luthors did not cry in public; Lillian's voice admonished her. Luthors did not cry at all, and certainly not for the fate of a commoner sentenced by the state.  _Unjustly sentenced by the state_ , her conscience reminded her.

She remembered what had happened the last time she'd objected to an official verdict. Remembered the stinging press of Lillian's fingernails against her cheek, the hiss of her voice as she asked how Lena could expect to know anything about keeping the piece or running a kingdom. She remembered as she'd nodded along until Lillian had released her, heart heavy as marble in her chest and just as cold. She wished, profoundly and fervently  _wished_ , that there was something she or anyone else could do. Steal the jailor's keys and start a jailbreak. (She'd done it at fifteen. A week in the dungeon for herself after watching the recaptured inmates meet their fate.) Challenge Lex to a duel for their freedom. (Women were legally not allowed to fight in duels. She'd tried that after meeting a particularly ill-tempered contestant for her hand.) Burn the whole damn castle to the ground with her family still in it. She hadn't tried it yet, and though marble and stone were near-impossible to ignite and easy to abandon, each day the idea grew more tempting. 

"I should remind those assembled that our military works with the crown's blessing. The South has been hiding criminals and fugitives from our justice for years. I will hear no words against their efforts. Should any of you have similar complaints, I suggest you exit."

A grumble of discontent rose up from the gathered masses. Dozens waited with bated breath and clenched fists, waiting for an objection or challenge from anyone else. None came. Those dozens looked passed the Prince, pleading eyes fixing on Lena as she wished to disappear. It seemed in that moment that the whole room, the entire kingdom was staring at her, waiting for her to do something,  _anything_ to help them as her (extremely overinflated, Lillian had once remarked) reputation stated she would. 

A flash of blonde to her left caught her attention, chest seizing uncomfortably. Her nails dug into her palms as she glanced fervently towards the source of her distraction, her eyes met with the heavily powdered and styled tresses of Lady Eve, one potential betrothed for Lex of many. She remained still as a statue as she turned her attention back to the matter at hand. It wasn't even the same color as the roguish Captain's, and she could afford no distractions. Not even beautiful, kind looking ones.

"Our troops are, of course, beyond reproach." If anyone hadn't been looking at Lena before, they were now. She swallowed her apprehension, thinking furiously of anything that might diffuse the situation. "Their focus must be on the war effort, and in their distraction, accidents do occur." They shouldn't, and if the military commanders were at all reigned in by the law or their liege, she was sure they  _wouldn't._ It didn't matter. Lex was smiling at her curiously down from his perch, a contented housecat in the windowsill with claws currently sheathed. Curious and content meant willing to listen to reason. "We owe them our utmost gratitude for their service and protection. However, those who support the war indirectly," Like having their hard-earned harvest confiscated, perhaps. "Must have their just reward. The treasury department will offer reimbursement for all...Donations made to the crown. However, their distribution is no matter for a criminal court. Please take your complaints to the castle steward, and they will be heard." She had a feeling Lady Arias, not from nobility herself, would be sympathetic and do what she could. 

"Very well. All who are here for reimbursement of property are dismissed." This time there was a general stampede towards the door, many of those leaving nodding towards Lena on the way out. She exhaled shakily, thrilled that Lex hadn't been in a particularly vindictive mood and confident that Sam would have anyone receiving payment out of the castle before the Queen caught wind of what Lena had arranged. She'd be the only one to blame when that happened, but given the circumstances, extreme punishment was unlikely. Lena scoffed at the idea. Lillian still had to keep her pretty and thus healthy to have any hope of pawning her off on the marriage market. She was, for most intents and purposes, untouchable.

Her pulse hammered in her ears as the next hearing began, a wink from a blue-eyed girl (the  _wrong_ blue eyed girl) shattering her concentration. Luthors did not  _get_ distracted by pretty women, and certainly not those who were criminally inclined, but she wasn't a true Luthor, was she? 

She felt rather good about that, as she tended to do after witnessing her family's ruling methods. Not that she could do better. Thinking like that was very dangerous, and far above her station. 

She thought it anyway, resisting the usual urge to stuff the thought into the deepest, most forbidden recesses of her mind.

It was her third rebellion in a matter of days. An unreported fugitive, public defiance of a royal edict, and now this mental treason. The memory of warm, mischevious eyes flashed in her memory almost approvingly, and she flushed, a slight smile creeping onto her face.

 


	5. The Death Knell of Wedding Bells

Princess Lena was unmarried. It was simply the way things were, as unshakable and unquestionable as the war beckoning the grim reaper once more towards the innocent. 

It was equally known that many wished to change this state. Young knights spent their youth trapped in fever dreams of winning her favor at tournaments, scheming lords beseeched the forces of heaven and hell to allow their preening sons to catch her eye. Old women clucked over their sewing, weaving prayers for the beloved Princess's happiness into each stitch as their grandchildren crawled at their feet. Once a month, like clockwork, a new strutting rooster of a man would process in from the western gate, flanked by multitudes of soldiers and heralds, to throw himself at her feet and beg for her affections.

Little sympathy was held for the well-heeled intruders as they were summarily dismissed by a single arched eyebrow and a devastating summary of their lack of qualifications for the title of "husband". The suitors came, trampling gardens and sneering at children, made their show of humility at the palace steps, and demanded the heart of their Lena. The suitors left, heads held lower than at their appearance, snickered at by passerby. A collective sigh of relief could be heard upon their exit.

Every so often, a suitor was sent for instead of arriving without warning and of their own volition. In preparation, workmen and servants were summoned to scrub the palace flagstones, sweep the debris from the street, and herd any undesirable beggar to a less visible quadrant of the city. These were always Queen Lillian's choices, allies seeking a gift in return for their support of the ongoing war. Sumptuous feasts weighed every table in the great hall until they almost buckled, and everyone with an ounce of political clout danced the night away in elaborate balls to honor the visitor. Never did any of these men leave with anything more than a polite smile, much less a wife. 

No one in the royal household was willing to breathe a word about the rejected grooms for fear of the Queen's retaliation, not publicly, anyway. Secrets of the detested, however, never remain a secret for long, and whispers swept through the back rooms of taverns and from mouth to ear in bustling crowds more quickly than famine swept the countryside, whispers of a warlord bested by a pale young girl with a knife under her skirt, of flickering flames from an experiment gone wrong engulfing an old man's robes and the Princess's smirk as it happened, of timely interruptions and embarrassments and men chased from the palace as if the devil were on their heels. It was as clear as a midsummer sky that no one of Lillian's choice would be wedding Lena.

Queen Lillian was clearly ignoring that fact. The man in Luthor green held his scroll with white knuckles as the crowd roiled around him, eyes flitting longingly towards the perceived safety of the palace several blocks away. He stood back, puffing out a nonexistent chest and brandishing the royal edict like a deadly weapon. Kara would almost feel sorry for the kid if the idea of yet another suitor for Lena didn't do strange things to her stomach. She fidgeted with the sleeves of her gown, borrowed from an innkeeper too fond of their gold to ask many questions. She missed wearing pants. She missed the way the deck of the Alura pitched under her feet. And she especially missed not feeling as if she'd swallowed an anchor at the mention of Lena Luthor's potential union.

"...Prince Spheer will arrive within the week. Preparations are being made for his arrival, and your compliance is of paramount importance. Long live the Queen!"

Halfhearted murmurs of "Long live the Queen" rippled through the crowd, which dispersed quickly with no further diversion to hold their interest. Kara remained, Alex eternally present at her side, loyal as her shadow. 

"Looks like James owes me a bottle of whiskey."

Kara snorted half-heartedly before pasting a smile on her face. The festivities that came with the arrival of yet another potential match for the princess were crucial to their little heist plan. Everyone would be in one place, the treasury guarded with a skeleton crew. They would be in and out within hours and no one would be the wiser.

She couldn't help but think the greater treasure would be dancing far above the vaults and out of Kara's reach. 

"Kara. Kara? You're doing it again." Alex tapped the crease between her eyebrows, her own furrowing in concern. "Don't tell me you're jealous of Prince Spheer?"

"No! I am not-That is ridiculous. I am not jealous of some  _Prince_ the Queen wants to join her stupid war. He has to spend a week  _here,_ with  _her._ Jealous? Of course not!" She broke off with a ragged laugh, false smile not reaching her eyes. She wasn't jealous of the Prince, some young man she'd heard good things about here to dine in a snake's nest. She was enraged with Lillian, bartering off an angel to fund a war. It was an atrocity. Lena's guarded face in the parade as the world went on around her flashed behind Kara's eyes. The poor girl. The Prince and Kara were only visiting, she had to live here and be paraded about like a prize horse. It wasn't  _fair._

"Alex?"

"No."

"I didn't even suggest anything yet!" She was not whining. Pirate Captains didn't whine. She was just...Pouting. Since Alex was so bad at saying no to her when she did.

"We're not doing whatever it is you want to do. We're here for a  _reason,_ Kara." They were. Kara could never forget that, no matter how hard she tried. Stop a war, save the country, help the innocent. It was her job, and she couldn't see herself doing anything else, but it was so tiring.

"What if I wanted to do something reasonable, then?" She didn't. She wanted to duel the Luthors and rip off Lillian's crown to place on Lena's perfect curls. And then dance the entire ball with the princess in her arms, making her laugh and holding her and making sure she was safe until the end of time. Which Alex was unlikely to consider reasonable at all. Neither would anyone else.

"Taking the prince's place and proposing yourself is not reasonable." Alex raised an eyebrow, short hair falling in front of her face and obscuring her smirk. She smacked Kara on the shoulder, barely ruffling her hair but interrupting Kara's somewhat disjointed train of thought.

"You're right. It isn't. Probably." She looked nothing like a man, which is the only reason she'd decided to discard that plan. "Because she barely knows me. So I could hardly ask her to marry me?" Alex was wearing the same expression she had the first time Kara had accidentally gotten herself tied up in the rigging in front of the entire crew. Kara grimaced, but plowed on, determined to stall for time. She needed an  _idea,_ damn it! 

 _Think. Think think think._ Lena's eyes. Alex. Money. Luthor soldiers. Lena's smile. Alex tapping her foot, staring. Ripping off Lillian's crown and throwing her in a dungeon. Lena in a ballgown.

"I should go to the ball!" Oh no. "For a reason." 

"To stare at the princess? Absolutely not. You could be killed." 

To talk to the princess. To guard the princess. To dance with her and convince her everything would be fine and run away with her.

"So could you. And everyone else." Alex did not look at all convinced by this logic. "I'm going to steal Lillian's crown."

 

Kara felt as surprised as Alex looked. The crown of Metropolis was an emerald-crusted monstrosity, but it would be worth more than half the treasury. They hadn't included it in their heist because the queen never took it off. Someone taking it would need to see her in person.

Someone taking it would need to attend the princess's ball. 

"Kara. The risk is huge. You could be executed!"

"The reward is bigger! Besides, it's a masked ball! No one will recognize me until it's too late. At the first sign of trouble, I'll jump out a window. Promise."

Kara stared up at Alex, her largest puppy eyes in place. Her sister knew she didn't care about the embarrassment to Lillian or a crown. But Alex was practical, and hopefully more practical than overprotective.

"Don't ask her to marry you. And you need to wear pants. No one can run in a ball gown."

Kara beamed. She was robbing a palace. She was attending a royal ball. And she got to see Lena again!

 


End file.
